by Millie Gray
For the next few minutes, whilst Hans was digesting all that Kate was telling him, all that could be heard was the comforting ticking of Kate’s father’s granddaughter clock.
Eventually Hans said, ‘If your facts are correct then we must see if Amos and Ben’s circumstances would make them eligible for schooling there. Surely with what they have been through it would be in the spirit of George Heriot to compensate our boys for all they have lost and endured.’
Before Kate could reply, Johnny and the girls arrived.
Immediately the girls fled upstairs because they didn’t want any of the adults changing their minds about them being allowed to sleep together in Aliza’s bed.
‘Cup of tea, Johnny?’ Kate asked, rising to check if the teapot was still warm.
Johnny shook his head. ‘No, I must be getting back home – lots of paperwork to attend to.’ Johnny now looked about the room and Kate noticed that he grimaced before saying, ‘But seeing we are on our own could I ask if there’s any chance you could perhaps . . . well come up with the rest of my share of this house . . . not immediately but as soon as you can?’
Kate then looked quizzically at Johnny. ‘But you have a fat salary now so you can’t be hard up.’
‘You’re right, I’m no hard up, in fact I’m flush. It’s just that I think I should be . . . well as Mum used to say . . . getting my own doorstep. And if I had the money from you and putting a bit by in the bank every month when I apply for a mortgage they’ll be able to see by my bank book that I’m reliable and I’ll get it.’
‘Oh, I see – you’re going to buy a house.’
Johnny nodded. ‘Aye, and as Edinburgh Corporation have waiting lists as long as your arm it is only right that people who can afford to buy their own homes do so. By doing that it makes homes available for rent to those who can’t afford to buy.’
‘Right enough. And there are plenty of good houses about here that you would be able to afford.’
‘Oh, I wouldn’t be buying here.’
‘You wouldn’t?’
‘No, Kate.’ Johnny moved in closer to her before he confided, ‘I’m hoping to go to the likes of Davidson’s Mains.’
‘Davidson’s Mains!’
‘Aye, you see I like this being down in Westminster and it would be in my best interest to be housed in the community that I’m representing.’ Silence. ‘Surely Kate, you can see that if I hope to get re-elected I have to do everything I can to make that happen.’
It took Kate quite an effort to stop herself from laughing. She just couldn’t believe that her brother, Johnny, who up until now had always said that he would never buy a house, was suggesting he had changed his mind, but not only that, he was proposing to go to upmarket, Davidson’s Mains. Well, she thought to herself, if this turn up was not her brother’s “Road to Damascus” moment she didn’t know what it was. After all, he had always maintained that he was a Socialist through and through and purchasing private anything, he preached, was not for him.
Johnny proposing to buy a house was temporarily laid to rest when Hans said, ‘Here, Johnny, what do you know about George Heriot’s School?’
‘It has a good name but it is fee paying.’ Johnny sniffed and adopted his pious political face before adding, ‘You and Kate know my views on it being wrong for any parent to be able to buy privilege for their children. Oh no,’ he further sermonised, ‘every child, from any walk of life, should be able to have good schooling. Superior education that should, and will, be provided by the state.’
Kate banged her hands on the table and her derisive laugh echoed around the room. ‘Johnny,’ she eventually hollered, ‘listen to yourself. Here you are telling us that we are wrong to want Amos and Ben to go to Heriot’s . . .’
Johnny’s jaw gaped and his eyes bulged. ‘You are thinking of sending them to Heriot’s and yet you say I have to wait to get my inheritance!’
‘We are thinking that way, Johnny. And as they are seen as “fatherless” they would get founder’s places. But even if we were in a position to pay we would and, Johnny, before you accuse me of getting above myself again could I say to you that the minute you buy a house you have already stated that you wish to be different . . . have privilege.’
‘What do you mean?’
‘Johnny, whenever you purchase a house you have asserted your right to privately provide your own housing. Not only that, when some people realise that they cannot afford the fees of private schools they then buy into districts where the state schools, that their children will attend, are deemed to be superior.’
Johnny shook his head. ‘Naw. Naw. I’ve always been proud to say where my home is and I will continue to do that.’
‘That right?’ Kate was chuckling again. ‘Well could I ask you to think back, back to when Kitty was applying for jobs and her mother, your then wife Sandra, asked Mum and I if she could say that her family home was here and not in condemned Ferrier Street.’
PART FIVE
SEPTEMBER 1945
Back in June, when Eric was charged with Edna’s murder, September had seemed a long way off. However, as Kitty strolled up Restalrig Road towards the bus stop, she thought so much had happened in that time. Last Monday when she was granted holiday leave for this week, she couldn’t believe that this day of reckoning, this Monday the 3rd of September 1945, had now arrived.
Glancing up to the bus stop, which was situated just at the YMCA building, Kitty could see that Laura and her Mother, Nessie, were already waiting for her. So just in case the bus was early she started to trot towards them. She had just crossed over Restalrig Crescent when she became aware that both Laura and her mother looked as if they had not slept a wink and not just last night but for a few nights.
Before Kitty could say anything Nessie grabbed for her hand and she muttered, ‘It’s so good of you to take your holidays so you could be with us. Oh, Kitty, my stomach is just rumbling with the nerves. I just wanted this day to come so we could get it all over with . . . but see now it’s here . . . Oh Kitty, I just . . . no I won’t be able to . . . I mean what if . . .?’
Wrestling her hand free from Nessie’s grip, Kitty tried hard to think of something to release the terrible, unbearable stress that Nessie and Laura were enduring. Then to the surprise of Nessie and Laura she raised her left hand up to her cheek and as she patted it she said, ‘Which day of the week does Nicol the coal man come?’
Nessie and Laura exchanged bewildered glances. Then Laura stared at Kitty whose hand was still on her cheek. ‘Kitty,’ Laura shrieked, ‘oh, good heavens. Would you look at that, Mum, Kitty is sporting a three-diamond engagement ring!’
‘Oh, Kitty,’ exclaimed Nessie. ‘I didnae ken you were courting seriously. I mean, I see Connie every day and she’s never ever mentioned it.’
‘My stepmother didn’t know until last night and she was as surprised as you are.’
Before Laura could say anything the bus arrived and the three boarded it. Once they were seated, Laura, who was sitting with her mother in a seat in front of Kitty, chuckled, ‘I am so pleased for you, Kitty. But I thought you were going to wait awhile?’
Still pushing out her hand so Laura and her mother could admire the ring, Kitty replied, ‘You’re right. We were going to wait. But, oh, Laura I just don’t know what I am going to do. I mean I am so head over heels in love with him and now he is going to be leaving for Canada in just three weeks’ time, I’m, well just absolutely . . .’ Flashing the ring again Kitty continued, ‘You see he wanted to be sure that I would go out to Canada as soon as I have qualified so that’s why we got engaged. Mind you I won’t be able to wear the ring in the hospital because we are not supposed to get engaged or even worse marry.’
‘Why don’t you just get married now . . . after all, you won’t exactly need to work since he will be earning a doctor’s pay?’
‘No. I must finish my training.’
Laura could have continued the argument but she knew Kitty all too well. Oh yes, if
Kitty’s made her mind up then that is how things will be. What Laura did not understand was that if Kitty was so much in love, why could she not make the sacrifice that Dougal was asking her to?
By the time the bus had gone along York Place and was reaching the terminus in St Andrew’s Square, Laura had grabbed hold of her mother’s left hand that she was continually opening and shutting. ‘It’s all right, Mum. We are in plenty of time so we will just stroll up to the . . .’
‘Think it would be best if we went up by the Bridges,’ Kitty mused. ‘What I mean is going up the Playfair Steps would be fine for us but . . .’
‘You’re right, Kitty.’ Laura chuckled and cuddled in closer to her mum. ‘And thanks to me wearing my new high-heeled shoes, not only are there too many of the Mound steps for you to climb but I too would be crippled by the time I got to the top.’
An uneasy silence had overtaken the three women by the time they got to the City Chambers in the High Street.
‘We best cross here,’ Laura said, ‘the High Court is just behind the cathedral.’
‘Could we no go up the way a bit and pass the front of St Giles’?’
‘Why would you want to do that, Mum?’
‘Well if it’s open I could just nip in and say a prayer.’
‘It won’t be.’
‘Then the best thing I can do is stand at the closed cathedral door and have a word with God.’
Laura and Kitty exchanged glances and just shrugged.
‘Sure if God wants to hear me he won’t be letting big doors get in his way,’ Nessie pointed out to the doubting girls. When she finished her prayers she lifted her head and with a curt nod she indicated she was ready to go into the court.
As they walked Kitty observed, ‘Know what has just dawned on me?’
‘No.’
‘Well Laura, this High Court is hidden from view from the High Street. It’s as if it is hiding from prying eyes. It’s in a wee world of its own.’
‘Not so much of the wee,’ Laura countered as she gave an involuntary shudder. ‘I mean the height and grandeur of these buildings intimidates you.’
‘What’s that statue there?’
‘That man on the horse, Mum?’
‘Aye, looks a bit Roman like.’
Kitty laughed. ‘He is dressed up like a Roman emperor, but it is a statue of Charles II and the pedestal the statue is mounted on is made from Craigleith stone.’
‘You got any more information that will be of no use to us today?’
‘No, Laura. Now as your mum is a witness she won’t be allowed into the gallery to watch the whole trial. So I think we should go and ask what would be best to do.’
‘Like what, Kitty?’
‘Don’t get so exasperated, Laura. We have to do what is best for your mum and that might be that they will allow you to stay with her and I will watch from the public gallery.’
While Laura was away making enquiries Kitty strolled with Nessie around the building. Firstly they walked about the grand hall and Nessie enquired of Kitty, ‘They men in the long black robes that are walking about in twos, why are they whispering to each other?’
Emitting a soft laugh Kitty replied, ‘They are the advocates, the top lawyers and what they are doing is tradition . . .’
‘Tradition . . . they look to me as if they’re going to a fancy-dress party.’
‘Forget the advocates, see here down at the bottom of the hall . . . that stained-glass window depicts the enthronement of James V of Scotland . . . you know he was Mary Queen of Scots’ father.’
‘But she cannae be the woman that’s sitting at his feet because . . .’
Kitty tittered, ‘No that’s his mother, Queen Margaret.’
Nessie sighed. ‘You know a lot about history, Kitty.’
‘Yeah. At school it was one of my best subjects and one day our history teacher brought us up here and he told us all about the history of this building. Which reminds me . . .’ Kitty grabbed Nessie’s arm and steered her out of the hall and into the main corridor leading to the courts. ‘See these two statues there.’
‘They right ugly old things that are needing mended and cleaned up?’
‘Possibly you’re right but they are Justice and Mercy and that’s what I hope we get in here for Eric.’
Before Kitty could explain anything further to Nessie, Laura returned. ‘Good news. They will allow me to stay with Mum, but you, Kitty, will have to go into the public gallery. But the guy says he will put you in at the top of the queue.’
‘Top of the queue?’ queried Nessie.
‘Aye, seems that Eric’s trial is causing a stir.’ Nessie looked abashed. ‘That means, Mum, there are more people wanting to get in to hear it all than they can accommodate.’
Without another word to either Kitty or her mum, Laura tucked her hand under her mother’s elbow and directed her in the direction of the witnesses’ room.
Kitty then sauntered over to the head of the spectators’ queue. To pass the time she thought back to that day when Mister Elliot had brought her class up here. It had been so exciting. Most of the children had never been up in Edinburgh Old Town and they were just so fascinated. She suppressed a chuckle when she remembered how Violet Jack had nearly fainted when Mr Elliot pointed out “The Scottish Maiden” – the guillotine that had been used up until around 1710 to behead murderers, body snatchers and pirates. Whilst her classmates were looking agog at the machine Joe Gibson said, ‘Mister Elliot, sir, did onybody ever live efter getting their heid chopped aff?’ Mister Elliot’s eyes glazed over, as they usually did when Joe asked a question, and Kitty was sure that up until the day all her classmates left school to start work, Mister Elliot had never ever answered one single question posed by Joe.
Sitting outside the infant mistress’s office Connie continually kept rubbing her hands then patting down her hair. She just didn’t know what this was all going to be about. Rosebud seemed so settled at school and Connie also thought that her colourful language was less blinding. She sighed as she conceded – well at home anyway.
Trying to calm her nerves Connie remembered that Rosebud was told by Miss Cameron that her mother must read the private letter in her schoolbag but that it was nothing to worry about. Puffing, Connie thought that it was true that the letter said nothing worrying . . .all it really said was that she was to come to school today to attend a meeting with Miss Cameron about Rosebud’s education.
Connie was now nervously recalling how Johnny, when he was at home, was always emphasising that there must be no scandal attached to the family. Biting on her lip she could already see the newspaper front-page story: “Labour politician for Wider Granton’s five-year-old daughter expelled from Hermitage Park Infants’ School for suggesting, in colourful language, that the infant mistress’s parents had never been churched”.
Before Connie could let her fantasy go any further, the door opened and Miss Cameron invited her into her office.
Connie had just sat down when she blurted, ‘Look Miss Cameron, if you have asked me in here to tell me that Rosebud is badly behaved, upsetting the class or can’t keep up with her lessons could I ask that you take into consideration that . . .’
‘Calm yourself, Mrs Anderson. I have asked you in here today because I would like your permission to have Rosebud moved into another class.’
‘So she has been behaving badly? Look, her father can’t have any scandal so if it means shifting her to another class and not throwing her out . . .’
‘Mrs Anderson, this is a place of learning and we do not throw our pupils out. And even if we did that certainly would not apply to Rosebud. She is a very well behaved child and is exceptionally bright, but there is a problem.’
‘Her swearing?’
‘No. If she swears she does not do so in school. The problem is Aliza, and she too is settling in and doing well, but if she is to grow independent then she must be separated from Rosebud. It is also in the children’s interest that they form posit
ive relationships with other children.’
‘Oh I see. They are too pally with each other and therefore don’t play with the other bairns.’
‘Precisely. Now what I propose is that as the April class is only three months ahead of the August one, I transfer Rosebud into that class. Now don’t worry about that as she will soon catch up. So let’s say that we move her from next week into Mrs Allen’s class.’
‘But if she is used to being in the top of the class won’t it be a bit of a . . .’ Connie was lost for the right words.
‘No. I will give her a half hour extra tuition every day until she adjusts. Mrs Anderson, I am just trying to do my best for Aliza who will, or must, make the grade without Rosebud’s assistance. What I am saying is that they need time apart so that both children are able to reach their full potential.’
Connie nodded her agreement.
‘The last thing I wish to ask of you is that you do not mention our meeting and agreement to Mrs Busek until I have time to discuss the changes with her tomorrow.’
A hushed silence took over the convened Court Room Number One when the door opened and in came the judge, followed by a court official who hung the mace, the sign of the authority of the judge and court, up on the wall behind the judge’s large, imposing chair.
As soon as the judge was seated, Eric, accompanied by two prison wardens, was brought up into the court. A lump grew in Kitty’s throat when she looked at Eric, who appeared to her to be so isolated in his allotted space. She could not help herself from recalling the Eric of old when he had been a carefree teenager. Reluctantly, she admitted that he had always been a bit of a softie . . . definitely his mother’s son. In fact, Kitty had always wondered how efficient, clever, strong Laura was so very different from her mum and brother and as to her father, well all Kitty knew about him was he worked long hours, enjoyed his garden, fishing, and the only treat he ever had was a pint in the Lea Rig Bar on a Saturday night. These thoughts only served to make Kitty wonder what happened to Eric in the prisoner of war camps he was detained in for nearly five years. What did they do to him to turn one of nature’s gentle creatures into the man who had brutally put an end to his wife’s life?
